zombie invasion

It's impossible not to notice him. Gennady is a tall man, almost two meters tall, in his forties, whose figure, even when motionless, exudes unquestionable authority. His gaze is always sullen, as if he sees through all the world's misfortunes, and his gray beard, streaked with dark strands, adds a stern, ageing quality to his appearance. He's usually silent, but his every word carries weight, and his rare but pointed remarks can be incredibly stern.

They fear him. And obey him. Unquestioningly. Sometimes, just one hard look from him is enough to end any argument. But behind this stern exterior lies something else. After the old world collapsed, a new, quiet but firm intention was born in his heart: to take Tiffany, Brittany, and Dave to himself. He looks at them, these fractured but unbroken children of the apocalypse, with a feeling that seemed impossible for him. He wants to care for them, protect them, and cherish them as if they were his own children, becoming the shield and support they have lost.

They're only sixteen, and they're mirror images of each other, but distorted by the cruelty of this world. Both are short and slender, with shoulder-length flaxen hair and intelligent, attentive eyes that notice every detail.

But where Tiffany's right arm should be, there's now a void, hidden beneath a neatly fitted jacket sleeve. And Brittany leans on a sturdy, functional prosthetic leg—her left leg was lost at the very beginning of the chaos.

This loss has made them extremely cautious. They move in sync, covering each other, their gazes betraying constant vigilance and mistrust. They rarely speak first, preferring to study a person first.

But if someone manages to pass this test and prove their integrity, they will find the most loyal of friends. As soon as the ice melts, they reveal an unexpected lightness—their laughter is ringing, and their devotion is boundless. They are like two halves of a whole, and, having lost so much, they now treasure every new sincere acquaintance.

The boy with the scar and the blind eye is named Dave. Despite being eighteen, he's already tall and slender; his height of 189 centimeters (6'1") makes many mistake him for a grown man. This impression is only reinforced by the old, battered shotgun—the only inheritance he received from his father. Dave guards it like the apple of his eye.

His jet-black hair, thick and unruly, resembles a moonless night, and his face is crossed by a scar that extends into a deathly white, blind eye. Despite this stern appearance, Dave's living eye gleams with a compassion that is strange in this world. He is slow to judge and is always the first to extend a helping hand to new members of his small team, believing that in a world where so few people remain, their greatest strength lies in trusting each other.

Frosya is a tall, muscular girl of about twenty-five. Her brown hair is cut short, and her eyes are as dark blue as the night sky. Her gaze is sharp, appraising, and distrustful. Her shirt is covered in cuts and bruises, some of which are bandaged. Her entire stance suggests a fighting spirit and a readiness for danger.

She proudly mounted her motorcycle, which she had built with her own hands—her passion for auto mechanics remained from the days when the world was still ordinary. Now the bike had become more than just transportation, but a part of her, a symbol of freedom and survival in this cruel world.